The Pale Echo
The rain had been falling on the roof of the Ashworth Library for three days, a relentless, gray drumming that seemed to seep into the very stones of the building and settle in the hollows of my ears. I sat at my desk in the restricted archives, the air thick with the scent of decaying paper and the damp wool of my coat, staring at the water-stained waistcoat laid out on the oak surface before...
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